Forgotten Forget-Me-Not
by Srishti Nautiyal19
Summary: Forget Me Nots are funny. They represent eternity, remembrance, promises. But sometimes, they entwine themselves with the trite roots of forgetfulness, lonelinesses, emptiness. Let's see which flower did Draco Malfoy pick for Hermione Granger on their 25th Anniversary. YOU'LL CRY BY THE END. Hopefully. GET YOUR TISSUES LOADED. AND YOUR ICE CREAMS IN VICINITY. IT'S DRAMIONE.


"They were always your favorite." Draco whispered, twiddling one of the forget-me-nots growing beside the two lovers."I admit they were never my first choice, but then these evil little creatures somehow seeped right into my heart. They are the reason why we're here after all." With that, Draco closed his eyes and went back to his favorite, or one of his favorite memories. The day when it all started.

 _The sun wasn't dazzling, nor were the winds blowing soothingly, carrying whiffs of foreign lands mingled with the earthly scent. It was not an ideally romantic setting either, with the sun hung low in the backdrop. All in all, it was a normal day. Just normal. The sun - not too low, nor too high. A pleasant breeze occasionally blowing across the scene. But what was not normal was for Draco Malfoy to be seen strolling in a Muggle Park, amidst a sea of muggles. But then, the war had been a tidal wave that had changed the direction of many-a-ships, some for the best and some for the worse. Draco was lucky enough to have meandered his way onto the former ship._ _It was exhilarating to feel. For someone like Draco who has been shunned into the darkest drudgeries that life had to offer - an abusive household, a cold, distinct paternal care, and then the hellish war - it was a divine blessing to feel again. To be human again. And he was basking in that emotion. He looked around and soaked it all in - those children playing on those weird things. Then there were the mothers worrying about their children on those things. The dogs running around those things. Everything was so commonplace, so warm, so normal. But nothing was alive. Everyone just carried on with their routine. The kids played like everyday. The mums worried like everyday. But no one seemed grateful for that everyday. No one stopped to just think about how great a gift it is to be free and happy - how fragile this happiness actually is and how no amount of their mothers' caution could stop those children from one day getting hurt._

 _And so when his piercing gray eyes stopped at a petite brunette sitting by herself, her fingers brushing the forget-me-nots growing next to her, a whimsical smile on her face, her eyes closed and her demeanour oh-so placating, he knew that normalcy was broken. He found someone who was grateful. Someone who read in between the lines. Someone like him. But what astonished him the most was that it was Hermione Granger, stalwart alumnus of Hogwarts, brightest witch, Minister of Magic in making, his supposed arch nemesis._ _Taking a leap of faith, he had moved to greet her. She had been startled at first, but then she warmed up to him. They ended up talking all afternoon, well into the evening. Draco apologized for everything that had happened in the past, the name-calling, the taunts, and also the war._ _Hermione has been patient throughout his monologue. She knew how difficult it was for someone so private and proud like Malfoy to open up about his feelings to anyone, let alone to his childhood nemesis. And so she had heard him pour his heart out in that apology. She was surprised of course to see Draco Malfoy, in a muggle setting no less, but perhaps war did that to people. It made them more mature and more observant. A bit more thankful in life, for life. And so, she had forgiven him. Because everyone deserves a second chance. Because evil is not born, its ingrained, propagated by harsh words, negligence, coldness, and animosity. She didn't want to cultivate evil - not in someone like Draco._

 _He was a far cry from the blonde git at school. He was a man now. A sinfully handsome man - the sensuous glances of women and some men towards the blonde angel was testimonial enough. But most importantly, he was now a good man._

 _It was clear in the way his grey eyes were no more cold, but like molten silver, held a warmth in their depths. How his lips curled up in a genuine smile every time he chanced a look at the children. How his voice constricted while apologizing, expressing his heartfelt morose._

 _And so, Hermione had offered him a forget-me-not as a peace offering._

 _He was stunned when the witch had presented a bundle of blue to him at the end of his pitiable apology. He had thought that she was going to punch him, expected her to, but all she did was extend a beatific little flower in his direction._

 _"What is this for, Granger?" He asked in a small voice, afraid that he'd lose his chance of doing right this one time._ _"Its forget-me-not - said to bloom in heaven itself. It signifies hope. Promise of a better future. Desire of a better life. Reminder of a good time. And I hope that this forget-me-not would be a reminder of the day we buried the hatchet and moved on together as a team working for a better future. This is to remind you how far you've come from the past. Of how great a person you've become. This is so that you can never forget it. Never at all, Draco."_

 _Hearing his name from her angelic lips was nothing short of redemption for Draco. His lips broke into a charming smile. He accepted the flower._

 _"This is to signify a new friendship, Hermione."_

 _Her name sounded so different falling from his mouth. She liked it. So did he. It felt like honey mixed with silk. It felt like home._

 _"To friendship."_

 _Hermione said with a smile. Seeing the golden flecks in her eyes dancing around so graciously, her honey coloured locks glowing in the dying sun, her cheeks sporting a delightful blush, her face a perfect picture of innocence and hope, Draco felt a feeling he'd never felt before. An emotion that was somewhere lost in the conundrum of life._

 _Finally, Draco Malfoy felt alive._

Draco opened the book he had been carrying with him. 'Beauty and the Beast' it read. Another one of Hermione's favorite. He skimmed to the last page and found his precious treasure, just above the happily ever after. Dried up now, the flower hadn't lost its value to Draco. He ruefully examined the flower when he felt some more blue petals breezing across his face. "Very funny, Hermione." He turned a bit to face her. "But remember how you loved it when you found this lovely bookmark for the first time? I can distinctly remember you cooing over the flower. And those solitary tears were not because of dust, for sure. It was our...last date, wasn't it? Last date as Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger, I mean. And do you remember Weasley's face when we told him about us being together? Or perhaps Pothead's eyebrows disappearing into that black mop! I can't decide which was more hilarious. What's your say, Mrs. Malfoy?" Draco asked his truly with a smile. He did that a lot with Hermione. Only Hermione. She was always so sweet and captivating. She was like his own personal goddess. His favorite human. She was his. Just like he was hers. Completely, eternally.

She was everything he thought was a dream. She was this bold, wildflower, growing in the hardest of conditions, blooming into the most beautiful flower, glorifying everything and everyone around her. It was so easy to love her. To fall for her. And boy did he fall...

 _Draco Malfoy was nervous. Scratch that. Draco Malfoy was having a fucking panic attack. Malfoys didn't have panic attack. But then, no Malfoy had ever had a date with a muggle-born. Not just any muggle-born but Hermione Granger. And not just any date, but their first anniversary! One year since they had met in that park. One year since he had fallen in love. One year since they had made their promise. One year of forget-me-not._ _Looking at the bouquet he had arranged for their special evening, memories of this fateful year rushed through his mind. Forget-me-nots were not the first preference for bouquets. Not normally. But then, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were not a normal couple. Far from it. They were the death of each other. One year worth of proof. They were obdurate, competitive, sarcastic at times, snarky at others. One would go as far as to call their relation a failed one. But they didn't know the truth. They never could._ _The world saw them arguing, bantering, making snide remarks. What they didn't see or perhaps didn't notice were Draco's worried glances whenever Hermione was not next to him in a crowd. Or Hermione's fingers entwined with Draco's rubbing soothing circles over his skin whenever they were out in the public's eye. What they didn't see was the twinkle of adoration and pride in Hermione's eye every time Draco achieved a milestone - his first job, first paycheck, first volunteering job, the first time he overcame social anxiety, or made amends with Harry and Ron. What no one saw was a lone tear falling from Draco's eyes on a lazy weekend when he was sure Hermione was asleep with their bodies entwined, their hearts beating in a sync with each other. How Draco would smooth her riotous hair, and pepper kisses over her forehead and nose and then sweetly peck her lips, looking down at the girl of her dreams, in his arms. How both would sleep dreaming the same dream of a better future, a white dress, the first marriage kiss, a bundle of blonde, curly haired joy. A family. Together._

 _What they would never know was the safety they felt with each other. They were the other's rock - holding them strong, building them up. Someone to lean on during the hardest of times. The world knew of their heated kisses, heavy make-outs, and even heated arguments. They knew how much they liked each other._

 _But no one knew those stolen kisses while seeing each other off in the morning, the furtive glances when the other was busy doing mundane tasks, the silly smile that graced their faces in each other's vicinity, or the staccato of their heart when the other was not around, even for a moment. So, while they knew they liked each other, the world would never know how much they loved each other._

 _Not until now._

 _Because today would be the day Draco Malfoy would propose to Hermione Granger and proclaim to the whole wide world as to who she belonged with and who he belonged to. Today would be the day to seal their promise to never forget each other, to achieve their desire of a better life - a life together._ _Draco was dressed up in a Persian blue dress suit. His blonde hair falling over his grey eyes. Hermione liked it better to have her fingers running through his long, silky hair, she'd told him once. With the bouquet in hand, a special box packed in his pocket, Draco went off to meet his soon-to-be fiance, if he had his way. And it wouldn't do to keep his lady waiting. He apparated to the same Muggle Park and made his way to the same corner. Their corner. Hermione had wanted to commemorate this special day right where it all started. He couldn't agree more._ _He sat there, looking at the blue flowers in his hand, which reminded him of the day he finally felt alive. A radio was being tuned somewhere near him but he couldn't care about it. He looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and lo. Hermione Granger had made him alive right at this place, a year ago; and right in this moment, she took his breath away._ _She was wearing a pale blue, off-shoulder dress with diamonds studded across her waist. Her hair was fixed in a complex knot and yet some of her errant curls had managed to wiggle out. Her lips were coated with a cherry red colour and taste as well (Draco's favorite). She was not sporting much makeup except for some mascara to heighten her natural beauty. And she was beautiful. Not in the striking, glamorous way. But more like a classic beauty. She didn't make men drool. She made their hearts stop beating. She made everyone else dull in comparison with her intelligent eyes, her brilliant features, her divine curves and most importantly, her smile. It was a smile to kill for, to die for._

 _Draco couldn't believe it was happening. Just a few more minutes and he could call this strong, strong woman his own, his world, his love. He stood up with the bouquet in his hand, the box still present, he checked and made his way to his life. His Hermione._ _They met halfway through the park and looked at each other. Looked at their significant other. Looked at their future, together. Before anything could ruin the moment, Draco slid down to his knee and presented the bouquet to Hermione. She accepted it with a graceful smile worthy of angels themselves. Hermione had expected Draco to stand up but was a bit perplexed when he didn't. She gave him a questioning look but it all went away when she realized what he was rummaging his pockets for._

 _Draco pulled out the velvet box from the depths of his dress suit, his heart beating erratically. He opened the box and presented to the queen of his heart with the most beautiful ring there was. It was made of a gold band with a line of forget-me-nots adorning the front. Blue emerald placed in between them. Delicate diamonds sat at the centre of the flowers, with silver and gold petals to complete the masterpiece._

 _It was beautiful._

 _It was nothing compared to Hermione_

 _Her eyes were filled with tears. Tears of joy and contentment, looking at the man she loved, the man who loved her. He was her man._ _Forever._ _Draco looked up to see her eyes water and her lips curl into the most brilliant smile. It was time for that speech he had prepared all those months ago - the proposal speech. His heart was beating fast. Ridiculously fast._

 _And then, he heard a bang._

 _Like a bullet perhaps. He looked up. His heart stopped beating. Entirely. Hermione's eyes were bulging out of their sockets. The smile long gone. A look of pure horror plastered on her face. A hand across her front. Her blood-stained front. She had been shot._ _Somewhere, a radio was tuned again. Some noise coming off the contraption."Alleged racism fueled terrorist groups wrecking havoc in the town. Beware. They carry weapons. Shall shoot anyone of the other race. We repeat, Beware."_

 _Draco could have laughed at the sweet irony of life if he wasn't so numb. His Hermione, his beautiful, brave Hermione was being murdered in cold blood because of blood. Because someone thought it their responsibility to protect their race. Their heritage. And the result - the girl who fought for equality, for freedom and liberation was being shot. Dying before his eyes. She slid to the floor right into Draco's arms. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think._ _"You'll be alright Hermione. We'll think of something. HELP! Someone help. My fiance is being shot. HELP! Which spell shall I use? Tell me Hermione. TELL ME!" Hot, prickling tears ran down his cheek._ _"Shh..Draco." Hermione winced. It took all her remaining energy to form her last few sentences._ _"Don't speak Hermione. We'll get through it. Then we'll talk. About future and life and marriage. We'll even have scarhead as the best man. Please Hermione. HELP. PLEASE!"_ _Someone had called the ambulance by now. The news reached Draco. "Help is coming Hermione, you'll be fine. Stay with me, sweetheart. Please. Don't leave." Draco chocked over the last words. He had Hermione laid across himself, his hands clutching her head painfully, scared that the moment he'd let go, she'd leave him. Leave him and never come back._

 _"Draco...I..I love you, Mr. Mal-Malfoy." Hermione ended with a smile. A devastating smile. A smile that was meant for goodbye._

 _The last smile._

 _Looking into her eyes, he could see the light leaving, could feel her body relaxing in spite of the pain. And somehow he knew. He knew it was the end._

 _"I...I love you too, Ms- Mrs. Malfoy. Will you marry me, Hermione?" Draco was crying._

 _Crying for the inevitable loss of the one good thing he had in life. Loss of his light, his love, his life, his Hermione._

 _"Always."_

 _Their lips met for a last kiss. It was just a peck. A sweet meeting of their lips._

 _Tasting what could have been - what should have been - didn't make it easier. It tasted sweet and sinful. It was full of life. It was poisonous._

 _It was goodbye._

 _It tasted like broken promises. It tasted like the forgotten forget-me-nots._

Wiping away the renegade tears, Draco stood up and replaced the dried up flower, the first flower inside the book. Just above the happily ever after. Not touching it. Never touching it. Just teasing him and tempting him with what could have been - what should have been.

He looked around and let his fingers run across the words written on his truly's epithet.

 _'How terrible it is to love something that death can touch.'_

He dropped the bouquet of the same forgetful flowers over her tombstone. His tears falling freely now. It was never easy. It never will be. It hurts. Every time.

He composed himself as best as he could and looked at the photograph of the girl he loved, the girl he loves right before him. Looking into her beatific face, her lovely smile, her shy blush, her divine curls, Draco couldn't help but smile. Smile at the cruelty of faith. Of life. It gave him a taste of everything he could have hoped for. And then snatched it away from him. Looking at Hermione, he thought, not for the first time and neither for the last that just how easy it was to love her. And how difficult to not love her deeper. With every passing moment.

With a rueful smile, he touched the box inside his pocket.

Still there.

"Happy 25th anniversary, Mrs. Malfoy. I'll see you soon. Forget me not."

THE END.

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 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** \- This just came off one starry night. And well, all that angst had to come out. And I apologize for taking it down the last time. There were just so many errors that needed correction. So, here it is. Just so we're clear, when Draco felt those petals brushing across his face, its actually because of the wind. But sitting beside Hermione, he thinks or likes to think its Hermione.

 ** _'In all the wild world,_** ** _There's no more desperate a creature,_** ** _than a human being_** ** _On the verge of losing love.'_** \- Atticus.


End file.
